This proposal Jack was only too willing to stamp with his approval so they hurried toward the bunch of men—pilots, mechanics, visitors and riffraff chancing to be at the field just then and now engaged in staring at the ruins of the new hangar, doubtless exchanging opinions as to how the conflagration had occurred in the dead of night.
“Huh!” Jack heard his comrade saying as if to himself as they approached the cluster of men, “seems like we got up against a reg’lar roundup o’ fire—last night that tenement, an’ now today the hangar we been usin’ to shelter our boat. Hot ziggetty dog! but ain’t life queer though?”
Everybody was turning to stare at them as they came along. Undoubtedly it was generally known that their ship had been stored in the destroyed shelter while Mr. Spencer Gibbons was away and that it was only on the preceding afternoon on coming back from a flight that they had transferred it to another hangar Jack had been able to hire since the owner of the one they had been using had wired he would be home shortly after dark.
“When and how did this happen?” Jack asked one of the pilots as he took in the fact that the remains of a plane could be seen amidst the wreckage—apparently an explosion had taken place, for much of the charred material of which the hangar had consisted was scattered around the near vicinity.
“They tell us around about midnight,” came the answer for the pilot knew Jack as a fellow craftsman, although a stranger to Salt Lake City aviation circles. “The alarm was given by the pilot of an incoming mail ship making port hours late on account of heavy fog in the mountains. Queer, too, they say, how quick it all came about—fire was blazing furious like when discovered, and nothing could be done to save Mr. Gibbons’ fine ship. There he is yonder, talking to some newspaper boys.”
Jack went over to tell the other how he was shocked to see what had happened to his property and to ask if anything was known as to the origin of the conflagration.
“Seems to be pretty much a mystery, they all tell me,” the genial sportsman informed him, not showing any signs of being at all worried although undoubtedly deeply mystified. “You fellows were in some luck to get your ship out before this nasty thing came along which I’m glad to know. Of course I’m well insured and can replace my Pitcairn Mailwing readily enough, only I’d gotten that one working like magic. I’m glad no other hangar caught when mine burned. I’ve offered five hundred dollars for any information that will prove that this was a set-up job for it happens that on one other occasion something similar to this came my way. You see, I was unlucky enough to make a few enemies in Wall Street who’ve never forgiven me for knocking them out on a big deal.”
Mr. Gibbons laughed and seemed in no wise bothered by his recent loss, only Jack noticed how his eyes seemed to glint like sparks from steel when mentioning the fact that he had unscrupulous enemies in the commercial world.
Jack hung around for some little time, talking to several of those present and asking numerous questions but learning next to nothing. If, as some of the ground attendants seemed to believe, it was an incendiary act, those who took big chances in carrying it out must have planned carefully and fixed matters not only to make a certainty of the ship sheltered within the hangar being destroyed, but also covering their tracks with great skill.
Finally he started over to the other hangar and Perk, seeing him go pulled his freight, as he would have called it, to hasten after his chum.